Vice: You realise that rap music is now mainly geared toward teen girls, right?

Malice: I am very well aware of that. But there’s no way in the world that I could cater to 14-year-old girls. I don’t know how to do anything else but this Clipse shit. My daughter’s into Nick Cannon, Jibbs’s “Chain Hang Low”, “Chicken Noodle Soup”, “Laffy Taffy”, all that snap music. I got to respect it because she loves it. She’s ten, and she doesn’t express any interest in my music. She might come in from the grocery store and be like, “Daddy your song’s on the radio” or, “Your video’s on” but you won’t hear her talking about “Wamp Wamp (What it do What it do).”

That’s probably not a bad thing.

And what’s crazy is that she’s the exact image of me, she’s got the exact same attitude. She’s just not into lyric-driven hip-hop. We talk deeply about what she sees on TV and the fact that it’s not like the real world, that it’s OK to enjoy it but you’ve got to keep everything in its proper place. I don’t bother her about Daddy’s past.

How about your wife? What does she think of Clipse?

She listens to tons of gospel. She don’t know nothing about no hip-hop. When I take her to the club, she gives me that face like “Let’s get out of here.” She likes Yolanda Adams, Kirk Franklin–I’ll come in the house and that stuff is bangin’–and I mean bangin’, like, loud as fuck. She don’t even watch rap videos. She’s only into, like, black-and-white westerns or Joyce Meyer the church lady. She hasn’t even heard my new album. It’s not our topic of conversation.

Also not into the Clipse album, according to Malice: His Uncle Morty (“We’re not close, but he would have sent a card if he liked it, right?”), his gardener (“It hurts, I won’t lie”), and the ghost of the late Lee Marvin (“He really makes a racket sometimes”).